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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433363">four windows into a love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/boatstoesta/pseuds/boatstoesta'>boatstoesta</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pitch Perfect (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Back to School, F/F, Friendship/Love, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Summer Love, Summer Vacation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:20:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433363</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/boatstoesta/pseuds/boatstoesta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca and Chloe's love told through four windows: two summers apart, one summer together, and what it's like trying to resume normalcy when that summer ends.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Beale &amp; Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>157</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>four windows into a love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>One.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
</div>Beca isn’t sure what she expected out of her summer, but it isn’t this. She glances over at her mom, who’s walking back to the dining room table with another glass of wine in her hand. Her fourth one, actually.<p>Her eyes flick back to her phone as the glass reaches her mother’s lips. Beca’s been back in Seattle for a week and her mom has found a reason to drink every single day. The first couple of nights it was <em>My baby is home! This is a cause for celebration!</em> Then it was, <em>we only have you for so long, let’s make the best out of the time we have and make it fun.</em> By the end of the week, she wasn’t even giving excuses for the drinking. </p><p>She stands up to walk to her room, not really in the mood to be the only sober person in the room again.</p><p>“Where are you going, Bec?” her mom asks. </p><p>“Um, I think I’m going to watch a movie in my room.”</p><p>Her mom gives Beca a weak smile. “We can watch a movie down here if that’s what you want.”</p><p>Beca instantly feels guilty. Her mom isn’t exactly a bad person. She’s just… hard to be around. Beca’s eyes hover over the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter. “It’s alright, Mom. I’m actually feeling kind of tired.”</p><p>Beca walks down the long hallway of the three-bedroom ranch home she spent her teen years living in. Despite that, the house doesn’t necessarily feel like home. She’s not sure it ever did while she lived here, but now that she’s spent a year away at Barden, the feeling is amplified.</p><p>It’s been a rocky year, and the truth is that Chloe is the only person who has had her back every step of the way. Maybe even on the days she was in the wrong. </p><p>She keeps expecting Chloe to reach out to her in some capacity. They had some ups and downs, but they’d gotten through them. That counts for something, right?</p><p>Beca is lying in her bed, staring at Chloe’s contact name in her phone. She feels like an idiot for making a big deal about being the one to text first. Like maybe if Chloe wanted to talk to her, she would have already, and she hasn’t. </p><p>After some thought, she quickly types a message and presses send before she has the chance to overthink it. <em>how’s your summer going?</em> Reading it over, she cringes at how lame she sounds.</p><p>The instant Chloe’s name pops up on her screen, she opens it.</p><p>
  <b>Chloe:</b><br/>
<em>portland is kind of boring</em>
</p><p>Beca bites her cheek as she stares at her phone and types her response. </p><p>
  <b>Beca:</b><br/>
<em>are you just sad because there’s no one to harmonize with?</em>
</p><p>
  <b>Chloe:</b><br/>
<em>…… maybe</em>
</p><p>Beca laughs what is the first genuine laugh she’s had since she arrived at her mom’s for the summer. It isn’t a forced chuckle or uncomfortable smile, but the real thing. It feels good. She’s about to type her response when two more texts filter in.</p><p>
  <b>Chloe:</b><br/>
<em>on the VERY first day i dropped my phone in the lake and lost all my contacts.<br/>
haven’t you gotten any of my facebook messages? i was starting to worry i’d have to go the whole summer without you</em>
</p><p>Something that has been poking at her heart all this time disappears. Chloe has been trying to reach out after all.</p><p><b>Beca:</b><br/>
<em>sorry, i didn’t realize. facebook isn’t really my thing</em></p><p>She catches herself smiling at her phone like an idiot and drops it immediately. Maybe the summer won’t be so bad after all.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>Two.</em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>For the second year in a row, the Bellas are ICCA champions. And it. Feels. Amazing.</p><p>In a way Beca feels a different pride over their second win, because she and Chloe did it as leaders of the group. Aubrey graduated, and Beca and Chloe co-captained the shit out of their first year running the show together. She should count herself lucky that Chloe had to repeat her senior year, as terrible as that sounds. Beca could never pull off the choreography the way Chloe does. </p><p>Saying goodbye when the school year ended had been infinitely harder this time around. Beca moved into the Bellas house instead of the dorms, and there’s something about living with another person, about seeing them every single day, that ingrains them into you.</p><p>She’s only been at her dad’s house for an hour when Chloe Facetimes her. “Hey, Bec.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes, but she’s secretly glad her overly-attached redheaded friend called. Whether she’ll admit it or not, Beca is overly-attached too.</p><p>“Are you just waiting for your flight?” Beca asks.</p><p>“Yeah. I’m seriously tempted to get some overpriced food even though I ate, like, an hour ago.”</p><p>Beca smirks at the screen, already knowing the summer is going to be filled with beautifully pointless conversations like this one. </p><p>And it’s true. It absolutely is. </p><p>In a lot of ways the summer is torture. Truthfully, in <em>one</em> really big way, the summer is torture. Being away from Chloe is harder than she ever realized. Chloe Facetimes her at all hours of the day—and night—and it helps, it really does, but it’s nowhere near the same as the real thing.</p><p>Her dad is passive-aggressively bothered by the way Beca is glued to her phone, but she doesn’t really care. If Chloe sends her a message, she’s going to answer. If she wants to facetime so they can talk about what songs to make arrangements out of, Beca’s going to hole herself up in her room for hours. </p><p>Chloe sets her phone on her dresser and shows her choreography all the time. Beca just lays in bed and watches, occasionally commenting on what she likes, or what part of a song it would work with.</p><p>They’re already talking about what nationals could look like if they go again—how they would compete, how’d they pull off another win. </p><p>“Two-time champions,” Chloe sighs one night. “That has a seriously nice ring to it. But not as nice as three-time champions.”</p><p>It’s a quiet night, close to the end of summer, when they’re on a facetime call. They’re not even talking to each other. They’re really just doing nothing together—Chloe is folding laundry, Beca is on her computer. </p><p>Out of the blue, Chloe says, “I almost wish you’d come to Seattle with your mom again this summer.” Beca’s eyes slide back to the screen. She watches Chloe fold a t-shirt and set it down, sitting there in complete stillness for a moment. “But I know that situation isn’t easy.”</p><p>She and Chloe have never spoken in detail about her mom, about her parents’ divorce. She doesn’t talk to anyone about that, frankly. “Why do you say that?” Beca asks apprehensively. </p><p>“It's only a two-hour drive from Portland to Seattle. We could have been together this whole time. But the way you talk about her… the way your eyes get. I don't know, I can just tell it’s complicated.” Chloe's voice gets silent for a moment. “You don’t have to say anything about it. I was just letting you know I understand why you didn’t.”</p><p>The way Chloe says it makes Beca stare at the screen, frozen in her tracks. </p><p>“Yeah,” Beca mutters. “Um, yeah,” she says again stupidly, pushing a chunk of hair behind her ear and looking at her keyboard. She clears her throat. “Anyways, um, there’s a new mashup I want you to listen to. I’m sending you the file right now.”</p><p>When August finally comes, Beca waits on the front steps of the Bellas house.</p><p>She smiles harder than she has all summer when her eyes land on red hair for the first time in months. Chloe is walking down the sidewalk, dragging her suitcase behind her, but the moment she sees Beca she drops it. </p><p>Beca smiles impossibly wider as Chloe sprints in her direction, luggage all but forgotten. She tackles Beca with such ardor they both fall to the grass with a thump and an oof.</p><p>“You’re crushing me, Chlo,” Beca grunts, but her arms are wrapped tightly around her. </p><p>“We’re never doing that again,” Chloe murmurs.</p><p>“Doing what?”</p><p>Chloe nuzzles into Beca’s neck. “Going an entire summer without seeing each other.” </p><p>Beca falls silent, taken aback. It’s not like she makes such emotional statements, and for a moment she really doesn’t know how to respond. “I missed you too,” she murmurs, letting her head fall back onto the grass.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>
<br/>
<em>Three.</em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>Beca lays in her bed, her laptop warming her legs as she scrolls through random playlists. Now that her junior year is over and all the Bellas have gone home for the summer, she has all the time in the world to create some really incredible arrangements for next year. Chloe was right, of course. <em>Three-time</em> champions has an excellent ring to it.</p><p>Beca’s phone buzzes. She glances down and opens the message.</p><p>
  <b>Chloe:</b><br/>
<em>i’m watching a movie in my room. care to join?</em>
</p><p>Beca smiles at her phone. The only Bella that didn’t go home. As far as Beca knows, Chloe has gone back to Portland six summers in a row, and Beca promised her she would come visit her this time, so she doesn’t really know why Chloe stayed this year.  She does know, however, that she won’t be lonely. So she doesn’t ask questions.</p><p>Grabbing her blanket and pillow, she makes a pit stop at the kitchen for a bottle of wine and two solo cups before walking to Chloe’s room. She slides through the half open door to see Chloe laying on her stomach, feet dangling over the edge of the bed. </p><p>Beca stands there, suddenly questioning herself for the nerves in her belly. As much time as she spends with Chloe, they’re rarely alone like this. They’ve watched TV in her room before, but this is the first time they’ve had the house entirely to themselves this way. Something about it feels more intimate, more closed off to the rest of the world. </p><p>Chloe is wearing silky sleep shorts and a tank top, whereas Beca is in long flannel bottoms and an oversized t-shirt. It makes her want to laugh at the deep contrast, but Chloe’s already turning to smile at her.</p><p>“Well, don’t just stand there,” Chloe chuckles, pushing herself up and sitting on her knees. “Bring that wine over here.”</p><p>Beca presses her lips into a thin line and shuffles over to the bed, setting her pillow and blanket down delicately and pulling the wine from between her arm and her body where it’s been safely tucked.</p><p>Chloe lets her take the wall and pulls the blanket over their legs in a way that seems affectionately devoted for the task that it is, but Beca doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, she just scoots down a little until she’s comfortable. </p><p>She wants to stay awake the whole movie, she really does. But the bed is so comfortable despite being so small, and Chloe is so warm against her. When her eyes begin to close on their own, it’s as if she has no say in the matter.</p><p>She misses the ending, but she doesn’t really mind. She’s never been of the belief that endings are the best part anyway.</p><p>The next night Beca doesn’t think twice when she walks to her and Amy's bedroom. She’s barely been in her bed for thirty seconds when her phone buzzes on her thigh, and Beca instantly smirks.</p><p>
  <b>Chloe</b><br/>
<em>since you’re not a big movie fan… true crime doc?</em>
</p><p>Beca chuckles and quickly types her response. <em>i’ll meet you there in 10 with snacks.</em></p><p>This time Beca doesn’t fall asleep. How could she when they’re five episodes in and they still haven’t caught the bad guy? </p><p>They stay up for hours bingeing until finally Beca lets her head fall back against the wall, groaning at the end of the episode. “It's three in the morning. I just want to know who actually killed her, for fuck’s sake.”</p><p>Chloe grabs the remote and flips back to the title page. “There are two episodes left. Finish them tomorrow?”</p><p>Beca nods and braces herself to scoot to the edge of the bed and walk back to her own room. Before she can, though, Chloe is already sweeping her comforter over both of them with a long yawn. Beca freezes.</p><p>Glancing down at Chloe, she sees her wiggling into a comfortable position with her eyes already closed.</p><p>Beca stares down at her for a moment, not exactly sure what to do. She has her own bed. In her own room. But something about the way Chloe just assumed she would stay has her slowly lowering her body back down onto the little twin bed between Chloe and the wall.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>It takes about a month for Beca to realize that she hasn’t slept in her own bed a single time the whole summer. The pretense that she <em>should</em> doesn’t even exist anymore. Her blanket and pillow have found a permanent home on Chloe’s bed.<p>“Happy Fourth of July,” Chloe says one morning over coffee.</p><p>Beca lowers her mug, her mouth dropping. “Holy shit. I didn’t even realize June ended.”</p><p>“I know, the days are totally blurring together.” Chloe takes a sip from her steaming mug and says, “We need to find a party and watch fireworks along the river. I’ve always heard it’s awes.”</p><p>Beca shrugs. “Yeah, why not.”</p><p>They get drunk at a house party. Whose house it is, they really have no idea. In a college town like this, it isn’t hard to just walk the streets and pick one of the many packed houses with blaring music to crash. If you don’t like the vibes, you just walk until you find another. </p><p>Beca and Chloe make an excellent flip-cup team and destroy frat guys left and right, always the type who believe drinking games are their true calling in life. Something about their dedication to the art of drinking games makes their defeat that much sweeter.</p><p>When the sun begins to set, Beca and Chloe make themselves one last drink and walk down the packed sidewalk with their solo cups in their hands. As promised, they’re going to the river for Chloe so she can finally see her fireworks.</p><p>“Where do you want to sit?” Beca asks when they reach the bridge. </p><p>“This way.” Chloe takes Beca’s hand. Their fingers interlace as she drags Beca down a paved sidewalk running along the bank of the river. </p><p>Eventually, Chloe settles on a patch of grass she deems suitable and pulls Beca down with her as she plops on the grass. The alcohol clearly has a hold on Chloe because she giggles in a way that makes Beca’s chest tighten and rolls back onto the ground.</p><p>She tilts her head to look at Beca, her smile fading a little as she thinks. </p><p>“Lay with me. We can look at the stars until the show starts,” she says softly.</p><p>Beca swallows the lump in her throat and slowly drops back so she’s laying side by side with Chloe on the grass. </p><p>Her butt is against Beca’s hip, and it’s all she can feel—the nervous warmth of touching. In the dark beside her, Chloe smells of sweat and coconut rum. Beca shouldn’t like it as much as she does.</p><p>They’re far enough away from the streetlight that Beca can only really see her silhouette. But even in the dark, she can still see Chloe’s eyes. The softest of oceans, always so much more forgiving than the real thing. </p><p>An overwhelming feeling sweeps over Beca, and she thinks Chloe must feel it too because she finds Beca’s hand and interlaces their fingers again. </p><p>The fireworks begin fifteen minutes later, and suddenly the world does not exist in muted earth tones anymore, but in the brightest flashes of red and blue, green and yellow. The world does not exist in a quiet love, but a booming explosive passion.</p><p>Chloe stares up at the fireworks with a child-like sense of wonder, and Beca can’t help but ask herself how someone who is the literal personification of the sun chose her to be her best friend. She finds herself with a lump in her throat. </p><p>Chloe turns back to Beca momentarily, doing a double-take when she realizes Beca has been looking at her instead of the fireworks. “You’re missing them,” she says softly.</p><p>Beca just quickly flits her gaze back up to the sky, not daring to let her eyes drift from it again.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>In all reality, the twin bed is small. Beca usually gravitates toward the wall, either facing it or leaning back against it. Even so, they almost always touch in some way throughout the night, usually waking up in some form of contact despite never falling asleep that way. One leg slung over another, shoulders overlapping. Oftentimes when she wakes up their backs are pressed against one another.<p>At some point in their slumber that imaginary line would disappear completely, but always unintentionally. Beca usually manages to move away before Chloe wakes up. </p><p>That changes the night they crawl in bed and put on another show. It’s a normal night. They eat popcorn and sip on wine, and when they’re too tired to watch any more they both slide under the comforter like always. </p><p>Beca curls up on her side, facing the wall. Like always. </p><p>Her eyes snap open when she feels Chloe’s arm wrap, almost protectively, around her waist. </p><p>Not like always.</p><p>Chloe sighs sleepily, her breath skating over the back of Beca’s neck. She can feel Chloe melting into her, her warm body finding every empty space. </p><p>“Good night, Beca,” she murmurs.</p><p>Beca’s frozen, not sure what to do. Knowing the alternative was her pulling away, eventually, Beca lets her shoulders relax and sinks into the touch.</p><p>She’s sure Chloe is already asleep when she murmurs back, “Good night, Chlo.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>
<br/>
<em>Four.</em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>Flights begin slowly trickling in until all the Bellas are back under one roof. Something about it feels really, really right. As wonderful as Beca and Chloe’s summer alone has been, Beca has missed all of them in their own way—she’s even missed trying to understand Lilly when she mutters vaguely concerning things under her breath.</p><p>They lounge around the living room all night, recounting stories from their summer and laughing over last year’s memories. It hits Beca that this marks the beginning of her final year as a Bella, and there’s an itch in her heart she doesn’t dare scratch out of fear for what might come out. She ignores the feeling as she watches Stacie dance in the middle of the living room with Cynthia Rose and Flo.</p><p>Once it gets late and everyone is tired, Beca walks into the kitchen to put the wine glasses in the dishwasher. She’s drying her hands on the dishtowel when Chloe comes up behind her, setting her own glass on the rack.</p><p>“Feels so good to have everyone back under one roof,” she murmurs almost dreamily.</p><p>“It does,” Beca responds quietly. </p><p>“I’m headed upstairs. You coming to bed?” Chloe asks, her hand coming to rest on Beca’s lower back.</p><p>Beca finds herself stilling. She doesn’t know how to answer Chloe. Her hand comes up to the back of her neck anxiously as she steps back.</p><p>“Well, things are back to normal so… I was just going to sleep in my room. You know, with Amy.”</p><p>“Oh,” Chloe says. She quickly smiles in a way that doesn’t reach her eyes and shakes her head as though it was ridiculous of her to think otherwise. “Yeah, of course.”</p><p>Beca opens her mouth to say something else, but the words just aren’t there. The girls would surely notice them sleeping in the same bed. How would they possibly explain it? She isn’t ready for those questions. She is unequivocally answer-less.</p><p>She can feel Chloe’s disappointment—it’s right there in her shoulders, in the way she doesn’t meet Beca’s eyes again as she wishes her a good night and slips out of the kitchen before Beca can say anything else.</p><p>After a week Beca thought things would go back to normal by now, but they don’t. She’s been sleeping in her own room every night, of course. If what she’s doing can even be called sleeping. </p><p>In fact, she would kill to do anything remotely <em>resembling</em> sleeping. Anything other than this ridiculous tossing and turning, and yes, it pains her to admit, pining for her friend.</p><p>She isn’t sure how she let this happen—how she let Chloe become the only thing that can lull her to sleep. Nearly three months of constant contact will do that to you, she supposes, but she hates the reality of it. The tossing and turning, the unending tiredness that Chloe has every ability to end.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Beca is making coffee, albeit amidst chaos as there are five other girls in the kitchen going about their morning routines, too.<p>Chloe walks in and sits down at the counter looking particularly exhausted. Beca watches her close her eyes and push her hair back from her forehead with an uncontrollable ache. She feels as tired as Chloe looks, and she knows it’s for the same reason. </p><p>Quietly, Beca gets two mugs down from the cupboard, instinctually reaching for Chloe’s favorite. She shuffles over to the fridge and pulls out the creamer, pouring exactly how much she knows Chloe likes into one of them.</p><p>Setting the steaming mug in front of her, Chloe opens her eyes and stares down at it for a moment. Her gaze slides up to Beca’s. For an instant, everything else recedes—the bustling kitchen becomes quiet despite the noise, and there is only Chloe’s velvety blue gaze.</p><p>It takes her to that place inside her that she doesn’t want to admit to, that place that knows she misses more than just sharing a bed.</p><p>Beca bites the inside of her cheek before raising her own coffee—black—to her lips and walking away. </p><p>That night, it’s two in the morning when she decides she can’t take staring at the ceiling and listening to Fat Amy’s snores any longer. With a huff, she throws herself out of bed and wraps her blanket around her shoulders.</p><p>She trudges down the steps with every intention of sitting on the couch and flipping on whatever will make her tired the quickest. Beca is vaguely wondering what channel Forensic Files usually plays on when she realizes the television is already on. She stops in the doorway, recognizing Chloe’s red hair in the dim lighting of the TV. </p><p>She’s watching the screen intently, her arms wrapped around herself in a cozy cocoon. </p><p>A smile takes over her lips as she realizes Chloe is watching <em>Dirty Dancing.</em> They’d watched that at least three times over the summer. Beca learned really quickly that she doesn’t have the heart to say no to Chloe. If she wants to drink pink wine and whisper, <em>“No one puts Baby in a corner,”</em> with Johnny, who is Beca to deny her?</p><p>Her smile fades as an all too familiar ache settles in her chest. She misses Chloe. She sees her every single day, and she misses her anyway. </p><p>When Beca turns to go back upstairs, Chloe must hear her because she turns around on the couch. She holds Beca in her gaze for a moment. Beca is consciously aware of the way her eyes go from surprise to what she can only describe as affection within the span of a second.</p><p>“Hey,” Chloe murmurs.</p><p>Beca pulls the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter. “Hey.”</p><p>“Can’t sleep?” Chloe asks quietly.</p><p>She shakes her head. “No. You?”</p><p>Chloe shakes her head, too. “Do you want to…?” She gestures to the TV lamely. </p><p>Beca finds herself walking to the couch without thinking about it, as though her feet had been waiting for her brain to catch up. </p><p>The couch is by no means small, and there’s plenty of room for them both. But she’s tired. She’s <em>really</em> tired, and she doesn’t have the energy to pretend like the thing she needs isn’t right there. </p><p>So she sits down right against Chloe, despite all the open room on the couch. She puts her head on Chloe’s shoulder and she tries not to think too hard about what it means when Chloe places a featherlight kiss against her hair. </p><p>Chloe is so warm and feels so right. It doesn’t take more than five minutes for both of them to fall asleep leaning against each other on the couch, their soft breaths dusting each other’s skin.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Every year for Halloween, the Bellas go wild, throwing the party of the year.<p>Beca can admit that <em>maybe</em> she went a little too wild this year. Amy just kept bringing her tequila shots, and God, does she hate tequila. But the thing is that once you drink enough, tequila shots stop tasting like tequila shots, so your reason for not taking more goes up in smoke.</p><p>She’s stumbling to the kitchen for another when a familiar arm wraps around her waist to stop her. “Alright, drunky, I think it’s time to call it a night,” Chloe says through a warm chuckle.</p><p>Beca groans, but when Chloe starts to take her upstairs she goes willingly. She’s too drunk to protest even if she wanted to. Except she doesn’t want to, because Chloe’s arm is around her and it makes her weak every time. </p><p>She’s helping her toward her and Fat Amy's room, and the moment Beca realizes she grabs onto the wall and jerks back. “No. I hate sleeping in there,” she grumbles.</p><p>Chloe saves Beca from tipping over completely, grabbing her by the waist more firmly and pulling her back in. “Alright, do you want to go back downstairs to the couch?”</p><p>She shakes her head. She doesn’t want to go to her own bed. She doesn’t want to go to the couch. Chloe won’t be in either of those places. “Take me to bed, Chloe.”</p><p>She pauses in confusion. “I was, but you said to stop-“</p><p>“Take me to bed, Chlo. I want to go to bed,” Beca says quietly. “Take me to bed.”</p><p>“Oh,” Chloe says softly, realizing what Beca wants. It’s been months since the last time Beca slept in Chloe’s bed. “Okay,” she murmurs eventually. </p><p>She gently helps Beca back to her own bedroom. When they finally reach the bed Beca falls back onto it without an ounce of grace.</p><p>“There’s wine on your flannel,” Chloe observes.</p><p>Beca looks down at herself. “That’s funny, I wasn’t even drinking wine tonight. Must be someone else’s.”</p><p>Chloe presses her lips together but says nothing.</p><p>She lays there, watching Chloe as she goes to her dresser and pulls something out. Her brain is warm and fuzzy and not fully registering Chloe’s actions, but sometimes it’s just nice to watch. </p><p>“Come on. Let’s get you in some pajamas.”</p><p>Chloe takes her hands and pulls her up to a seated position. She tries to place the shirt in Beca’s hands, but Beca just snorts. “I’m too drunk for this.”</p><p>Chloe chuckles and takes her hands again. “Alright. Come here and stand.”</p><p>She allows Chloe to help her out of her skinny jeans, and she’s so patient with Beca while she does it. Once the shorts are on, Beca clumsily sits back down on the mattress. </p><p>She’s a mess—she knows she is. Yet it’s so satisfying, being Chloe’s mess. She’d do it more often if she knew this is how Chloe would take care of her. She would have done it all summer long.</p><p>Beca begins to fumble with the buttons to her flannel, but after just one of them takes twenty seconds to undo Chloe takes over and finishes the rest with a soft chuckle.</p><p>She feels Chloe’s fingers falter when she realizes Beca is completely bare beneath her flannel, no bra in sight. Until this moment, she’d forgotten herself. Beca doesn’t say a thing—she only watches Chloe’s face. It’s frozen, just like her hands are, as she stares at the widening gap that reveals a few inches of Beca’s chest and abdomen.</p><p>Alcohol permeates every corner of Beca’s brain, every muscle in her body, but her hands move with a renewed steadiness as they cover Chloe’s and finish the last two buttons by herself.</p><p>Her heart is pounding as her hands grip the fabric and pull it slowly down her arms until the shirt falls from her shoulders, leaving herself completely exposed.</p><p>Beca watches Chloe’s eyes. The way they’re glued to her, the way Chloe swallows and her face is suddenly so serious. </p><p>Her memory may be spotty because of all the tequila, but she doesn’t need it to know when she’s seeing something for the first time. And in this moment, Beca knows she’s never seen Chloe frozen in her tracks the way she is now. </p><p>For a long moment, neither of them move. She expects Chloe to say something, do something, turn away, leave the room. But doesn’t—she can’t.</p><p>Taking pity on her, Beca raises her hands so Chloe can slip the sleeves of the t-shirt over them. Chloe lets out a self-aware chuckle. The spell is broken and she loops each of Beca’s hands in. It slides slowly over her arms until she can carefully move the shirt over Beca’s head, her fingertips skating down Beca’s back as she pulls it down to cover her naked frame. It sends a shiver down Beca’s spine, and she doesn’t even bother trying to conceal it.</p><p>Her eyes still on Chloe, Beca lays back on the bed and slides under the covers. Turning back to the dresser, Chloe pulls out some clothes for herself to sleep in. She slowly pulls her own clothes off. Beca can only see Chloe’s back, but it’s so much. Already almost too much for her drunken heart to handle. She takes no shame in letting her eyes rake over every inch of her, as if she could help it even if she wanted to. </p><p>When Chloe finally does slip under the covers with her, Beca doesn’t have the restraint to stop herself from instantly reaching for her and pulling her close. Her leg slides over Chloe’s and her head nuzzles into the crook of her neck.</p><p>She can feel Chloe let out a long breath and wrap her arms around Beca with no hesitation, her cheek pressing against Beca’s hair like this is what she’s been waiting months for. Like the only thing she’s wanted all this time is for Beca to ask for exactly this. </p><p>The thought crosses her mind that maybe she should have sooner. </p><p>Her eyes fluttered closed. She’s already so close to sleep when she hears the door creak open. “Have you seen Beca?” she hears Amy ask. “She’s not in our room and no one can find—oh.” </p><p>There’s a long pause. Beca feels Chloe tense a little under her, but she doesn’t move, keeping her eyes closed and pretending to be asleep.</p><p>“She just - she had a bit too much to drink, so I want to keep an eye on her,” Chloe explained quickly.</p><p>“Of course, Red… no explanation needed,” Amy muttered, sounding a little too amused.</p>
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  <p>***</p>
</div>When she opens her eyes, Chloe is awake. She’s watching her, her hands moving in lazy circles across her back.<p>Beca tries to sit up, away from her, but Chloe stops her. “You don’t have to move.”</p><p>There’s enough light to see Chloe’s expression, read her eyes. There’s no teasing there, no gloating that yet again Beca has thrown all boundaries out the window in so many ways. </p><p>There’s only a contentment in her eyes that made Beca want to lie back down. She slowly lowers herself back down, her eyes drifting closed again as Chloe’s hands continue their lazy circles on her back.</p>
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  <p>***</p>
</div>That night Beca is lying in her own bed, staring at the ceiling. Just like she has almost every other night since all the Bellas returned. Every night except for last night, that is.<p>Her mind drifts to Chloe, who is surely in her bed by now. </p><p>Beca should have woken up this morning in the worst state of embarrassment in her life. She’d taken her shirt off in front of Chloe last night. No—she’d taken it off <em>for</em> her. But when they finally did climb out of bed, the bubble of the night broken, it was communicated without words that Beca didn’t need to apologize or explain a thing.</p><p>She may have been drunk last night, but she was stone-cold sober in the morning. It was very much a conscious choice to stay there, to fall back asleep in her bed, in her arms. And there’s no corner of her mind left that can deny how good it felt. How badly she wishes she was there right now instead of here.</p><p>Groaning in annoyance with herself, she throws the covers off herself and gets up, grabbing her pillow. She’s out of reasons why she should deprive herself. If there are any left, she doesn’t want to know them.</p><p>“Off to cuddle with your girlfriend?” Amy says, glancing up from her homework.</p><p>“Bite me,” Beca grumbles.</p><p>She walks down the long hallway, her blanket and pillow dragging behind her like a child. She doesn’t even bother knocking as she enters Chloe’s room.</p><p>Chloe is sitting in her bed, her laptop resting on her legs. Her head snaps up as she watches Beca trudge in, eyes wide in surprise.</p><p>Beca throws her pillow over Chloe to the other side of the bed, her arms pausing midair as she takes in Chloe’s widening smile.</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>Chloe presses her lips together to suppress her smirk. “I wasn’t going to say a word.”</p><p>Climbing over Chloe’s legs, Beca takes the side closest to the wall, just like always. She slides under the covers and watches as Chloe shuts her laptop and sets it aside, her heart doing flips as Chloe looks down at her. </p><p>There’s a deep affection there that Beca won’t pretend she understands. The only thing she does understand is the overwhelming sense of comfort she feels as Chloe slips under the covers and slides one arm around her. </p><p>Their eyes linger for a moment too long. Looking at Chloe, Beca gets the feeling there’s something she wants to say. But she doesn’t, and neither does Beca. She says nothing at all and just looks back. </p><p>Eventually, Chloe whispers, “Good night,” her hand sliding down Beca’s back before finding its final resting place in the small curve of her spine. </p><p>Beca knows she’ll wonder for a long time what it is Chloe might have said to her in that stretch of silence, but perhaps that sort of bravery is best left for better days. Perhaps for now it’s just enough that she’s there.</p><p>Chloe falls asleep first, her chest taking on full and even breaths, and before long they’re both gone, their bodies cradling each other all through the night.</p>
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